


Is That Why They Call Them Hot Springs?

by SableSunday



Category: Pokemon - Fandom
Genre: Coils, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hemipenes, Knotting, POV Second Person, Sentient Pokemon, Water Sex, scaly, snake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 00:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SableSunday/pseuds/SableSunday
Summary: You've taken a break from Team Rocket'ing it up. It's time for some R & R at a hot springs you heard tell about. So you and your partners take a dip.
Relationships: Arbok/Jessie
Kudos: 19





	Is That Why They Call Them Hot Springs?

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: This was a commissioned story, and the commissioner has given me explicit permission to post it here. I've modified it with their critiques in mind, and I hope you all enjoy! I could really use feedback so I can do better in the future, so lay it on me! GentlythoughbecauseIamabigbabykthanksbai.

Nabbing Pokémon is what you do. You’ve done it for more than half your life by now, and it’s had its ups and downs along the way. From rags to riches and back, you, your partner, and your two teams of trusty Pokémon have kept your collective heads above the water- and sometimes, even out of the storm. It’s time for a break though, so you’ve met up at a local hot spring with your ever reliable partner and the Meowth you two share, to take advantage of your time off.  
Even the most nefarious masterminds need to relax, right?  
The check-in at the front desk is easy enough, and before you know it you’re all being led down a corridor to the changing rooms. This is where you and your partner split, and the attendant has the Meowth go with them. At this time you’re also informed that it’s a one Pokémon per person while in the springs, so you’ve got that decision ahead of you when you head for a stall and change out of your clothes and into a towel. When you’ve dispatched the length of your hair up into a wrap as well, you’re left dithering over the team on your belt hanging in the locker. You can’t manage to pick without feeling bad, so you squeeze your eyes shut, snatch a ball, and close the locker. At least that way it’s chance.  
The springs must be artificial to have the frothy layer of bubbles on its surface, or else the owners don’t care about keeping it natural. You’re not one to judge- at least not by the time you’ve slipped into the warmth up to your belly, and the heat’s washing away all thoughts of anything else. Once you’ve slid beneath the water up to your chest you dispense with the towel on a rock and consider the pokéball you’ve brought with you. You have a feeling you know which Pokémon is inside even before your thumb depresses the activator, tossing the captive out onto the steps you’ve just come from.  
_Arbok_.  
The Cobra Pokémon hasn’t seen much use lately, so you’re glad you were right in your hunch. He could use this time about as much as you can. You consider him with an appraising eye as you set the empty ball down and lazily drift into the deeper waters- his hood is as radiant as the last time he was out, violet scales just as smooth. All in all, even with the confused furrow to his brow, you think he looks just fine.  
“Arr?” he queries to you when he’s gathered himself up and come to terms with the steamy spring you’re in together. Smiling in reply, you gesture for him to come into the water as well, to which he’s tentative in obliging. Slowly Arbok descends the steps on serpentine stomach, drifting over the water’s surface when that becomes easier than scooting across the stony bottom. “Arrrbok,” he hisses in sibilant delight once he’s let himself relax, and leisurely slithers through the gentle waves up to your side.  
The two of you are the personifications of peace as you drift together. You’re on your back against the upper half of Arbok’s body, comfortable with your nudity since no one else seemed to be coming in anytime soon. He’s got his head resting on your belly, leaving you with all the scale of the back of his hood to idly stroke as you two are pushed by the spring’s gentle flow. You spend Arceus knows how long like this, with him letting out little rasps of contentment… And for those untold times, it’s bliss.  
Except… You can’t help but notice that Arbok looks rather rosy in the cheek scales. He can’t seem to stay still beneath you, and his contentment is starting to sound less relaxing and more frustrated. You’re in a mixture of concern and annoyance with the incessant twitching and shifting in place, and you don’t shy away from telling him so. A stern word and a slip from his coiled embrace, and you’re off to float on your own for a while instead. Your Arbok looks none too happy at the sudden change, and when you swim away, he coils up and sullenly resigns to watching you.  
You know it’s not safe to fall asleep in the water. Drowning is a very real possibility, even if you know how to swim. But the heat is a balm on your stressed mind, and the subtle currents lull you to dozing before you realize it.  
You awake in a heat-induced haze a short while later, in unfamiliar surroundings. You know you’re still in the water by its gentle lapping at your shoulders, but you can feel the rough of stone against your back. When you go to reach for the edge to gain your bearings, you’re shocked to find you can’t move your arms. Your eyes pop open in confusion, and what you open them to only confuses you more. Your vision resolves in patterns of purple, black, red, and yellow, and you look down to see what the problem is with your arms. It all connects at once.  
_Arbok_!  
Immediately you look up to find his face, but all you can see is more of his hood. The rest of his uppermost body is braced to the edge of the pool as leverage, and when you realize that, you also realize the source of the persistent lapping. Thick muscles in your Pokémon snap and swell all around you. You’re firmly in the Arbok’s coils, but he has the last few feet of his tail wedged up between your legs and folded over your belly. It’s darker beneath the shade of his hood, but through the murky water you can see what he’s trying to do, and you jolt in his grasp from disgust.  
Arbok would have been better at the daycare for something like this, but you just haven’t had the time, and now you’re paying for the mistake. How could you forget that an Arbok’s hood was a sensitive place, and that yours would be more receptive to such touching because of how long he’d spent inside his pokéball? Still. You’re the trainer and he’s the Pokémon, and you snap at him to let you go. You’ll not have him jerking himself off with his own coils and dirtying you in the process.  
He doesn’t respond. All you can hear instead, is the heady rasp of his murmurings. “Ar… Bok. Ar… Bok.” Sonorously low and full of need. With him not listening, you’re going to have to try and break free yourself. Try as you might, however, your Pokémon is too strong, and has only coiled tighter around you in response to your struggling. There’s a frustrated hitch in his panting whispers, and when you let out the first decibels to try can call for help, Arbok finally responds to your plight.  
You’re dragged under the water, taking on gulps of it and unable to escape his grasp. Down… But up again just as quickly, you choke and splutter beneath the mess of hair that’s come undone from the towel wrap on your head. Arbok nudges the tendrils from your face, but you surmise quickly that it’s not for your benefit, but his. His eyes flash with a brilliant red light, and you realize what your Pokémon is doing. He’s using Glare! On you, of all people! You’re stunned by this knowledge, and he uses your temporary compliance by rotating you in his wrapped grasp, where you’re now pressed cheek and chest to the edge of the spring.  
You’d forgotten about your nudity up to this point, but he reminds you of it with a slippery bump of his scaled tail up between your thighs. The retraction of his… Sex organs… Sends a ripple through his body against yours, until both tips drag against your mons and twitch up between your folds. You were disgusted before, by him fucking the flesh of his coils, but now you’re revolted. Sex between a trainer and their Pokémon is not only taboo, it’s unheard of, except as a hyperbolic talking point. It never happens!  
Until it’s happening to you, though, right?  
The twin tips of the Arbok’s cocks drag through your petals with a measured slowness, as if he’s savoring the feeling of you, and when you feel them both settle at your entrance, he lets out an anticipatory “Arrr…” You’re still somewhat disoriented by the plunge beneath the water, but when both pricks course up into you at once, all the haziness disappears. Half of him is inside before you manage another series of firm- if a little frantic- protests, but he can’t hear you. He’s hissing with a fury at his inability to fit inside all the way, but he’s not about to stop trying now.  
The water should make his advances easier, but as anyone who has spent time trying to fuck in a pool would know, the water only adds friction to the melting pot. The friction inside you is a distracting sort; you can feel the narrow crowns press against your walls, the way the two shafts squeeze against one another in frictious attempts to plunder you deeper. The Arbok can’t manage it though, and the grind of him alone is sending delighted signals up into your loins with ill regard to your consent on the matter.  
As he slides free you have precious few seconds to consider the anatomy of your Pokémon. Like all Snake Pokémon, your Arbok has hemipenes. They’re no more than the length between your wrist and middle finger, and they’re about as thin as a single digit on their own. When they’re used for mating with other species of Pokémon besides another Arbok, the two appendages are flexed together by its muscles, and it can be used as a single rutting tool. The only problem you can see with this related to you, is that nearer to its root is a swollen base that’s meant to keep it locked inside to ensure insemination. _That_ unique little detail is what _your_ Arbok is about to try and shove up inside.  
He tries again before you can object, and though the now-combined length of him gets just a little bit deeper, he’s no more successful than the first time. Your walls aren’t helping either of you in the meantime- clamping down to keep him out only adds fuel to the fire, and you’re jarred from your sickness at his actions by the dizzying sensation of the whole cock inside you _vibrating_. Shoot, that feels… That feels good! It’s still taboo and gross and you could vomit from thinking about this too much but… But it _does_ feel good, and incredibly so.  
You resolve within yourself to try and relax. If you let him get what he wants out of you, maybe it’ll be over quicker. And maybe… Maybe a little part of you has the hope that it won’t feel half bad. You hadn’t imagined your first lay in a while being with your Arbok, but if it’s good, maybe you can forgive him. The rattling of his prick diminishes as he pulls out of you again, and you can feel the coils kneading against your body as he tries to adjust his angle. When the thrust next comes you’re jarred hard into the wall, cheek and chest scraped with the effort, but the sensation is secondary to the one shooting bolts of pleasurable lightning up through your belly and down your legs.  
“Arrrrbok…” he moans, and you moan too, despite your earlier protests. He’s used the quivering motions of his erections to stir up your insides, and it’s helped him slide all the way in, stretching you with the last few inches as the knotlike root pops beyond your muscled entrance. You can feel some of him leak into you- it’s unnaturally warm compared to the rest of him- and you for that matter. Now that he’s figured your body out, Arbok wastes no further time with the slow formalities. You’re bound and wedged against the edge of the spring as he pulls himself out with a vibrating tug, only to shove back in to the scaly base.  
In and out. Out and in. Arbok’s rearranging you one brick, one thrust, one fuck at a time, causing your toes to curl and your feet to tread water. You let out another moan, and when you hear it reverberate back you can’t manage to care enough to stifle the rest that come. Slap! Slap! Slap! You can feel your Arbok’s scales strike against your flushed lips and the stinging sensation pushes you closer and closer to the edge of a climax. You’re shaking your head no, trying to communicate that you’re not ready…  
But you can’t manage to form the word. You can’t summon the sincerity to tell him to stop. You and your Arbok are sloshing around at the edge of the spring, and he’s hammering himself into you with such a fury now, that when the orgasm finally washes over you, for a brief moment you can neither tell where he ends and you begin, nor whether you’re breathing air or drowning in the ungainly hot ropes he’s bloating your depths with.  
He looses a grating exclamation of his own release, and you two collapse in a lazy heap in the water, locked at the nethers and gasping for breath. You drift again, and you indulge in the gentle strokes across the back of his splayed hood while you move. When he unstoppers from your blushing bits you can feel much of his seed dribble out into the water too… But the way he’s slowly looping himself around your body again… Maybe once wasn’t enough.


End file.
